


Stupid for You

by yincredible



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 02:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yincredible/pseuds/yincredible
Summary: This is a collection of short Boosh stories based on prompts, generally focusing on Howince!





	1. Soft

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KINGOFMODS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KINGOFMODS/gifts).



> The prompt for this was Howard playing with Vince's hair. Hope you enjoy!

One thing that had always intrigued him about Vince was his hair. It was clearly important to his friend as well, since he looked after it so well and rarely let anyone touch it. Perhaps it was this fact that led to his curiosity that evening as they watched TV, side by side as always, laughing at bad acting together. His gaze kept drifting back to the black locks, unable to quite focus on the awful new drama they were watching.

He wanted to touch it.

Not entirely aware of what he was doing, he slowly reached out to touch the forbidden treasure. Vince's eyes were glued to the screen so he hadn't noticed yet, but Howard would need to be quick if he didn't want to be yelled at. Entranced by what was about to happen, his fingers grazed his best friend's hair and it was like the world shifted.

He hadn't expected it to be that soft.

Despite having planned to move his hand away quickly at this point, he couldn't seem to help himself from entangling his fingers in it. Gently, so gently, he stroked the hair and played with it in his fingers. It was like heaven in his hand, and for a second he forgot to care what Vince would think.

Freezing, his gaze darted to his friend's face. He was watching him. Their eyes met and he slowly pulled his hand back, but Vince's own hand shot up and grabbed his wrist. He had never seen his eyes so wide before. There was something in them, something like longing and something like fear. They were frozen in that moment, his fingers just barely touching his best friend's hair and arm locked in place by the other's grip.

He doubted that Vince had meant to sound so fragile when he whispered, "Don't stop."


	2. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's prompt was Vince being embarrassed about liking Howard. I hope you enjoy it!

I didn't see much of him at first. Once every couple of weeks he would come in with his friends and then be gone again. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't even have recognised him, but he had the sort of appearance you couldn't forget. That was how it begun, spotting him every once in a while and serving him like any other customer. His friends could be loud at times but they always seemed nice enough. It wasn't that they weren't good-looking or interesting; it was just that he outshone all of them.

I'm not sure when they started coming more often, but they began to come in every week, and then a couple times a week. I began to understand their personalities more as they kept coming. Though I'm not one for getting too friendly with customers, I smiled when they spoke to me and made casual conversation when necessary. I'm not entirely sure, but I think I did it to be around him longer.

There wasn't much on our menu, and they quickly got favourite meals. Slowly I began to memorise them, but I always asked anyway. It didn't matter for most of them, but I wanted to hear him say it. I think I would be happy to listen to him say anything. Even though I didn't say much back, I began to notice that he would smile whenever I did talk. After realising that, I started talking more.

They started coming in more often, until I would see them every other day or more. I learnt their names, but forgot most of them fairly often. There was only one I cared about: Vince. Knowing his name at last, I began to think about him more often. If I'd had more friends that I saw more often, I would have told them all about him. He was the reason I never quit, even when I was tempted to or life was stressful. At least I could look forward to seeing him.

The first time he said my name, it was like a jolt of electricity. His friends teased me for being surprised, pointing at my name tag and reminding me that they had know my name this whole time. He laughed with them but didn't tease, flashing me a smile I didn't quite know what to do with. I laughed and didn't tell them that it wasn't the fact that he knew that shocked me, but rather the way "Howard" sounded when he said it. It was the shape of his lips as they formed the word, and the way he looked me in the eyes as he said it. I liked the way he made the word sound like it belonged to him. I liked to think that it did.

At first, I was frightened by the way they would suddenly stop laughing as I approached. After so long, it surprised me to see them act almost uncomfortable. Over the next few visits, Vince slowly stopped meeting my gaze. It felt, in those moments, as if some integral part of me had died and I was the carcass left to go on without it. He began to act nervous around me in a way I didn't understand, and all of a sudden I seemed to walk with a rain cloud above my head each day, unsure of what to do to gain his attention again. I'd almost begun thinking that he remembered me when I wasn't there, but with these changes I wasn't sure anymore.

I walked to them one day and they started talking in hushed whispers before some started to laugh. Vince looked embarrassed, and they seemed to be teasing him. Curious, I sped up my pace in hopes of catching part of their conversation before they stopped. When I reached them, they grinned at me, but I didn't care about any of them. He was looking away, his face flushed. I wanted to know what was wrong, but I couldn't ask when they were all here. One of them gestured to him and started to say something, but I caught a flash of a silver boot moving under the table, and his friend cried out in pain and was stopped from speaking in this way.

It was when I was finishing my shift and getting ready to go home that I heard him say my name again. "Howard". A plain, boring name, and yet on his lips, it sounded like the name of an angel or some other blessed thing. He said it as though it mattered, and sometimes when he said it, it felt like it did. I turned around and saw him, without any of his friends. This was the first time that had happened. His face was flushed red and he looked nervous, but his voice was strong as he asked me if we could talk. I agreed. I loved hearing him talk.

His friends had told him he had to tell me, and that was what they'd been teasing him about. I asked what he had to tell me but he hesitated, and I took those few reluctant seconds to drink in his features, letting my gaze travel along the familiar lines of his face. It was just as I remembered it. It was just as I pictured it in my dreams.

"I like you" were words I had heard before, but never from someone I cared about so much, and rarely for this purpose. He said them the same way he said my name: as if they were the most important words he'd ever said. I was bad at dealing with these situations, unsure of how to voice my own feelings or how to receive his appropriately. I did the only thing I could think to do at the time.

I kissed him.


	3. Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from my friend Mikey for long term pining!

How long had he been staring? By this point, he'd forgotten. Possibly a couple of minutes already, but he just couldn't bear to look away. The light was shining in through the window, a soft orange that lit up his hair like fire. Who could resist watching the dancing flames while he was preoccupied with some magazine or something like that? Occasionally he would read segments out, but it was barely heard. Though he tried to listen when he spoke, sometimes it was so difficult when his face was right there, distracting any person that appreciated beauty.

It had been like this for a long time. These moments where he couldn't help watching him as he got excited about new trends or read news about celebrities. He wasn't oblivious to his own feelings; he knew he had it bad. Looking back, he could pinpoint at least three moments when he fell deeper in love with his best friend, but he could never remember when he first started adoring him. All he knew was that it was so many years ago that he'd lost track. He must have spent countless hours wondering how he looked so incredible or why his eyes seemed to light up when he grinned.

Sometimes it seemed like a curse to love him for so long without ever being able to confess his feelings, but there was also times when he just felt lucky to be so close to him. Even if he'd never be seen in the way he wanted to, he at least got to be with him every day. Though he wanted more, he knew that to be loved by him in any way was enough.


End file.
